


Voracious

by EverTheDreamer



Category: Oz - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-17
Updated: 2009-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverTheDreamer/pseuds/EverTheDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"To me, men are like books. Sometimes I want a romance, sometimes a thriller. And sometimes, I want a classic. But when I finish, it's back on the shelves and on to the next." "Maybe you're reading too fast." "I'm voracious."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voracious

She laughed naughtily in the back of her throat, leaning back in her chair as she put her feet up on her desk and crossed them at the ankles. "Is that so?" She brought the pen to her plump lips, chewing on the cap as she twirled the cord with her fingers.

Was what she was doing unprofessional? Hell yes. But over half the guards here did worse, she knew.

Besides, the library was nearly empty! Three inmates. And they were part of the group that didn't cause problems. Agamemnon, Beecher, and Pablo. She _didn't_ feel threatened. Hell, with Pablo there, she felt-dare she say it- safe.

And as long as she kept her relative composure, who would _know_?

Of course, Robert _would_ be returning with the book cart soon… _He_ would know, would see it in her flushed cheeks and broken focus.

"Tell me more," she purred into the receiver, running her tongue over her lips before biting into her lower lip.

 _God_ , she was _burning_.

She forced herself to swallow, pulling her feet from her desk and turning her seat around so she wasn't facing the inmates. "Oh, I bet you'd _love_ that, wouldn't you?" she breathed huskily, her breath just a little shorter than normal.

"Miss C-"

"Shit, Pablo!" she gasped, dropping the phone as she spun in her chair, clutching her chest.

"Yo, what's wrong, Miss C?"

Her eyelids fluttered and she forced a deep breath, smiling, "Nothing. You just…. Startled me. Whaddya need?" She was _looking_ at him but she was already reaching for the phone again, her fingers curling around the receiver.

He looked at her skeptically for a minute before shrugging and moving on. "Man, I dunno how I feel about this new book you picked out. I mean, a _clown_?"

" _It_ is a _classic_ Stephen King novel, Pablo. It's _very_ good."

"Miss C," he started, his voice sounding skeptical, "these punk kids are afraid of a _clown_. I mean, if I were there, I'd just _pop_ this asshole Henry _and_ this crazy-ass clown."

She tightened her fingers around the receiver, her knuckles shining white. "I really think you'd like it. But…" she trailed off, shrugging. "If you don't wanna give it a try, I can try to find another book for you later. But I really think you should _try_ it while I'm looking for another book. Sound fair?"

He nodded, the corner of his mouth turned upward in a thoughtful manner. "Alright. I'll try it," he conceded.

She smiled, pursing her lips in a dry victory, before leaning closer to him and whispering. "There's sex."

Pablo smirked back at her, nodding. "I'll try it," he repeated, going back to the table and scooping up the book before leaving.

"Sorry about that," she sighed into the phone as she brought it back to her ear. She ran the fingers of her free hand through her hair absentmindedly as she stared out at the two remaining inmates.

Beecher was doing research to try to get his boyfriend off death row; Agamemnon was waiting impatiently for Robert to tell him all about his visit with Norma.

"… I _know_. I _said_ I was sorry. I can't exactly _help_ it, Michael," she hissed into the receiver, vaguely aware of the look Agamemnon was fixing her with. "Well I _am_ at _work_. What was I _supposed_ to do? … Just-" She stopped herself, forcing out a slow breath and closing her eyes. "I said I was sorry, Michael."

"Stella-"

She cut him off, holding out a solitary digit as she focused on her phone call. Her voice came out as almost a purr when she spoke. "Please forgive me?" Her plump lips spread in a smile when she got the answer she wanted. "Good. I'll call you later then? … Great. I'll talk to you then." She replaced the phone in its cradle before looking up at Agamemnon. He was fixing her with an odd look, one she didn't like in the least. "Yes?"

"Who was that?" he asked, his own features betraying the fact that even _he_ hadn't expected to ask that.

"I'm not sure that's any of your business," she answered, her lips pursed and her voice almost cold. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Beecher look up from his book.

Agamemnon leaned over her desk, clearly wanting to keep the manner private. "Listen… I know it's not my place, but Bob really likes you and-"

"You're right. It's not your place," she interrupted him, her voice decidedly cold now. Her chocolate eyes were shining with something almost akin to anger. "What Robert and I share… Well, frankly, that's between him and myself. Now, what did you _need_ Agamemnon?"

He straightened, nodding. "Nothing. Never mind. Tell Bob I was here? I need to talk to him."

She nodded once before shifting her attention to the computer and starting a search. She watched him leave out of the corner of her eye as she typed in the words 'baseball' and 'sex.'

Beecher, for his part, seemed to _sense_ her ire and scooped up the book he was reading, nodding before leaving her alone to her own devices.

Groaning in frustration, she dropped her head to her arm.

She should _wait_. Robert would return any _minute_.

But she'd already picked up the receiver and was dialing the number she _shouldn't_ know by heart.

"Michael? Oh, _God_ …" her voice betrayed her desperateness. She scooted forward in her chair, parting her thighs as she ran the fingers of her right hand lightly up her inner thigh. "I'm _so_ sorry… _God_ , I want you. I wanna feel your strong arms around me. I wanna _feel_ your thick cock _inside me_."

She bit her lip, her eyes drifting closed, as she rolled her hips and pushed them down against the chair. She hiked her skirt up just a little, exposing her thighs. "What am I wearing?" she repeated back, her voice playful but coy. "I'm wearing that _tight_ pink sweater you like. And the short gray skirt. … Oooo. _Lace_. Black lace, Michael. Practically see-through. And matching black, lacy panties… Mmhmm…"

"Mmnm, baby, I'm so _wet_ for you. I wish you could _feel_ how _wet_ I am," she purred, running the pads of her fingers over the crotch of her lace panties and teasing herself. "Oh? You think I should? And why's that? Are your fingers wrapped around your _thick_ shaft?" She laughed naughtily again. "Ooh, Michael, I want you to imagine _my_ fingers laced around your hard dick. Moving _hard_ and _fast_. While I lean down and take your tip in my _hot mouth_. That sound good, baby? You wanna feel my tongue on you? … Oh? You wouldn't _let_ me tease you, huh? And just what would you _do_ to stop me?"

She sighed softly in response to his teasing words, slipping her fingers into her panties and running them along her slit. "Mmnnm… Michael, that sounds so _good_. … I _could_ be…" She slid two fingers into herself, leaning back in her seat as she let out a soft groan of appreciation. She raised her left foot, balancing her heel against the edge of her desk as she rocked her fingers upward. "Two!" she gasped, nearly dropping the phone as the new position allowed her to push against her clit with the heel of her hand. "Mmm… You- want me- to use- another- finger?"

She crooned as she thrust another two fingers into her silken heat as per instruction, her body yearning for more. "Mmnmm… It feels _so good_ , baby. _Tight._ And _wet_." She was gripping the phone tightly with her left hand, her knuckles shining white again, as she fought to make sure she held it to her ear as she buried the fingers of her right hand deeply inside herself. "Mmnmm… _Fuck_." She gasped sharply, pushing the heel of her hand hard against her clit so that she was rubbing it fiercely with each thrust of her fingers.

"I'm so close, Michael," she forced out, her voice low in her throat as she groaned. "Oh, _God_ … I'm- I'm gonna-" Her back arched and she dropped the phone, her left hand going behind her head to grip the headrest of her computer chair as she let out a desperate squeal and climaxed hard around her fingers.

She was dully aware of a loud groan from the phone as she relaxed against the chair, breathing hard. Swallowing, she reached down and grabbed the phone. "…. So… I'll stop by your place after work?" She laughed naughtily, pulling her fingers from herself and lowering her leg. "Oh? You don't see _why_ I should? Well, what if I told you I was _sucking and licking_ my fingers clean of my hot cum?" She took all four of her fingers between her lips, sucking them clean of her juices and moaning around them. She giggled, playfully biting her index finger. "… I get done in a few. I'll see you soon."

She leaned forward in her chair enough to hang up before collapsing backward again, still breathing hard. Her eyes closed, she made a half-hearted attempt at righting her skirt.

"Stella?"

He needn't have announced himself. She'd heard the rickety wheels of the book cart as he returned, snapping her from her reverie.

"Mmm?" she managed, her body still tired.

"Are you alright?"

She could _feel_ him hovering over her, could _hear_ the concern in his voice. "Mhmm. Just tired, Robert, that's all." She leaned instinctively into his touch when he reached out, his fingers lightly brushing the arch of her cheekbone before running down the side of her cheek and then tracing the vein still racing in her neck.

"You're flushed," he noted, his voice soft.

"Mhmm."

Her eyes were still closed but she _sensed_ that he'd moved and was now leaning against her desk. She felt him lightly trace the lining of her sweater with his finger, following the dip of her neckline before lightly running up the center of her throat.

His touch was light and teasing, lulling in every sense.

Except that she was at work.

And _really_ shouldn't let anything happen with him.

She could _feel_ the goosebumps erupting across her flushed skin in the wake of his touch.

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyelids fluttering but staying closed. Her lips parted as she searched for words, "R-Robert…" She forced herself to swallow before running her tongue over her lips again.

"Yes?" he breathed, his breath hot against her lips.

She had to stop this. She couldn't let this go _any_ further.

She leaned forward in her seat despite herself, closing the distance between them and pressing a single, light kiss to his lips.

"You should go," she whispered, her eyes still closed. Their lips were just _barely_ touching and the sensation was driving her _wild_. "You have count." She felt him nod in agreement but not move any further. "Robert, y-you should… You have…" She trailed off as he raised a hand to gently cup her cheek.

"FIVE MINUTES TILL COUNT!"

"Stella," Robert sighed, his lips brushing her plump ones. She covered his hand with her own, basking in the soft sensations. "… Tomorrow," he promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Rebadow!" a guard called, pushing the door to the library open. "Count in five."

"I'm on my way," he answered simply, already having moved far enough away to prevent any _more_ rumors from starting. He chanced a look back at her as the guard left, watching her deep measured breaths as her eyelids finally flickered open to reveal her soft, chocolate eyes.

She _knew_ what Agamemnon would tell him when he got to his cell and, even though it was true, she _prayed_ Robert wouldn't believe him. Swallowing hard, she reached out on a sudden impulse, grabbing his hand and keeping him from leaving. He looked back at her, his confusion etched into his features.

She should have just let him go. She should let go of him _now_.

This was her _job. She shouldn't-_

She used his weight to pull herself into a standing position, immediately wrapping an arm around his neck and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. "Tomorrow," she agreed, her voice a soft, barely-there breath. She let her forehead rest against his as she offered a weak smile. She took a step back, breathing out slowly and deliberately.


End file.
